My Messed Up Story
by SummerRain626
Summary: Abigail is the daughter of Rick Grimes. This is just an intro of the character of Abby. If you're reading my story Abby then you might want to check this one-shot out!


**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead!**

Hello! My name is Abigail Grace Grimes, and this is my messed up story.

Well, I'm going to start from the beginning. I was born on November first 1995 at 4:45 pm. I had two loving parents that I would not have traded for the world. However, they argued all the time(from the time I was born to the death of my mother) and I hated that more than anything. My parents had me at a young age, and I was not planned. This is something that has always bothered me. Well, I was always so afraid that they would get divorced. I also knew that when people with kids split up, the mom is usually the one who gets the kids. I did not like the idea of that at all. Not that I didn't love my mom(I did very much) but it was because I love my dad so incredibly much and I couldn't take losing him. I remember laying awake at night thinking my dad would leave and I wouldn't see him in the morning. I didn't want to have to only see him on weekends. I wanted my parents together. I mean…how awkward would it be for holidays, birthdays, school events, etc. I did not want to have to deal with that.

So anyway, my brother, Carl, was born when I was four. At first, I did not like the idea of having a sibling for the sole reason of having to share my parents. I know, it sounds very selfish but I was a child so please don't hold that against me. Besides, I love my baby brother so much that I cannot even put it into words, but I'll get to that later. So, Carl was born and something incredibly weird happened. It seemed as though my parents stopped arguing as much. I don't know maybe it was just me, but that's really what it seemed like. I didn't understand how they couldn't argue in front of him but they could in front of me, and I'm not going to lie, I was somewhat jealous of him for this fact. I knew that it wasn't his fault, but I was still mad anyway. I bet I know what you're thinking. You're probably somewhere along the lines of this: "This girl is so dumb and immature for thinking this way." Or, "This is just some typical teenage girl whining about her parents." And honestly you're right. Well, up to this point you are, but my story gets so much worse. I remember one night while in bed, when I was about six, I woke up to my parents fighting. I was so scared because my dad actually stormed out. He left and I didn't think he was coming back, but thankfully he did. The worst part was that they were arguing about me. I can't quite remember what they said exactly, and I never asked them about it. However, it still bothers me to this day. So next, something bad happened to me when I was about seven or eight.

I was staying over at my uncle's house, who is an alcoholic, and I got hurt pretty bad. See, I was outside playing, and I fell and hit my head. It was bleeding pretty hard. I tried to get my uncle to help me, but he was passed out drunk! I didn't know what to do, and I was terrified. I really thought I was going to die! Eventually, I did pass out, but when I came to I was at the hospital and my parents were there. I remember how worried they looked, and they just kept hugging me. I don't know how I got there, but I knew I was okay then. My parents disowned my uncle after this. I can't even remember the last time they spoke. This isn't the only time alcohol has harmed me in some way, but we'll get to that later.

Although this was a horrible experience, something good actually came out of this. My parents were not arguing! This bad thing that happened to me somehow brought them closer together. I remember when I was at the hospital, I looked at my parents and they were holding each other. I was so happy.

That moment right there was when I found out what my job was. What I HAD to do for them. Now this is where the story gets wild. There were a lot of times where I had faked my problems just so they would have something to relate to. I knew both my parents loved me so much so I knew this would work, and it did! I would pretend to be sick or hurt and my parents would take care of me together. Some of it wasn't faking, though, because I did get sick a lot as a child so I had an advantage that other kids didn't. My health issues kept them together. And I could tell things were getting better for them. They started going out more and talking more and they hardly argued at all now. They were definitely happier.

However, I was not. Because of all this shit that went on with me, I was, I guess you could say socially awkward. I went from a happy, hyper-active, loudmouthed little kid to a quiet and misunderstood teenager. I started junior high with not a good attitude at all. I didn't have many friends so I was often alone. My closest friend was my cousin, Franky. He was three years older than me and always got me into trouble. We did so many bad things from stealing to drugs to even hurting others. My parents knew _some_ of the stuff I was doing(if they knew everything, they would probably have a heart attack, and lock me up in my room for the rest of my life) and it about killed them, especially my dad. I don't know why I did the things I have done. I guess I just thought Franky was the coolest and I looked up to him and wanted to be like him. I was so stupid though. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I liked it. It's confusing and fucked up. And when I really think about it, I hated Franky. He basically ruined my life, and I am not exaggerating! He caused me a lot of humiliation and regret. He ruined my self-esteem and made me feel worthless. He convinced me that the very few friends I had were too good for me, and that they were lame and they were holding me back. Doesn't make sense. Holding me back from what? The thug life? So, like the stupid idiot I was, I shut out my friends and only hung around with Franky and his goons. And around this time, I got my first real boyfriend, Jared. He was such a nice kid, only Franky didn't like him, so he ruined my relationship with Jared. I honestly don't even want to talk about that. It just really pisses me off and makes me feel bad.

This went on for a long time and there were some things that happened in between. Like, when I was thirteen, I almost died. I was in a really bad drunk driving accident. Guess who was driving? I wasn't wearing my seatbelt and I flew out the windshield and damaged the left side of my brain. Luckily, it wasn't the right side. At least I still have my creativity and my great sense of humor, obviously from writing that line.(That was just a joke incase you're stupid). Well, anyway I was in a coma for about three weeks. My dad is the one who brought me out of it actually. I'm so grateful to him. He is truly the best dad anyone could ask for. He helped me through this so much and I owe him everything. I wish I could say things got better after my recovery, but of course, they didn't. I had missed so much school because of my accident. I knew that even if I got caught up that I would never actually catch up.

I was way too far behind everyone and not to mention my brain injury. School was just way too hard for me now. There's really no other way to put it. And so I became depressed. This is about the time I stopped paying attention to my parents' problems and started focusing on mine. And to make it even harder on me, my parents forbade me to ever hangout with Franky again because he almost killed me in that wreck. He was dog shit to my parents, and I can't say I blame them. However, he was like my only friend. So, I was depressed, dumb, and had no friends. Life was not good. In fact, it was probably my darkest time. There were times when all I did was listen to music and write. In my situation, I was the wrecked car, not the person. I contemplated suicide a lot. I never attempted! Just contemplated. I really want to stress that.

With that said, let's move on to my next problem. I was in eighth grade about this time when I became extremely sick. And I have bad anxiety problems because of this incident. It was the same thing everyday. I would throw up and have other bathroom issues. We thought it was just a virus and it would eventually pass, right? Wrong! I had this problem for months! It just wouldn't go away and no one knew what it was. Until one day, I woke up in the middle of the night to go throw up. I must have woke my dad up in the process because he came in to see if I was alright. I figured it was just the normal thing going on with me so I told him I was okay, and to just go back to bed. Well, turns out I was so not okay. I was in the bathroom for hours. I probably threw up every fifteen minutes to the point where I was just throwing up stomach acid, which hurt like hell. Then, I felt an alien feeling in my stomach. It hurt so bad that I couldn't even stand up. And that's when the most horrifying thing of all happened: I started spitting up blood! I yelled for someone and my dad rushed in. He must have been up the whole time. He saw the blood and immediately took me to the hospital, while my mom stayed home with, Carl.

After this trip, they finally found out what was wrong with me: I had a stomach ulcer. Yeah. I was happy but I wasn't happy. You know how it is. Well, anyway they gave me a choice. I could either get it surgically removed or I could take medication to slowly break it down. Um da! I wasn't about to let them cut me open! But here's the catch, the medication can have some bad effects on people, like sickness and like skin irritation and whatever. I decided to take the pills first, and if they didn't work then I guess I'll have to get the surgery. Well, the doctor was right. They sure as hell made me sick. I was constantly running to the bathroom. I had to take a doctor's note to school, even all my teachers knew and they were used to me running out of the room in like the middle of class. It was pretty embarrassing. I couldn't deal with much more of it. The pills were working, but way too slowly. I didn't want to have to go through this in high school. So I decided to get that damn surgery. It went really well and they got rid of it. But I had to take a new medication to prevent the ulcer from coming back. Luckily, it didn't make me sick. But something else did, life!

My parents were arguing again, except this time it _was_ my fault. They were fighting about money. We had a lot of hospital bills because of all of my health issues in the past. My plan had backfired! I spent all that time trying to keep my parents together with my problems when now I was tearing them apart. It came back to bite in the ass.(Foreshadow) What have I done? I can't do anything right. And I'm about to prove that theory for you. Here's part of why I hate myself. For years I had put my parents through hell with all this stuff going on with me. I thought I was doing good, but actually I was making things so much worse. And to top it all off, I started hanging around with Franky again. After all that, I still go back. I told myself, do you really want to do this to yourself again? Do you really want to do this to your parents again? About this time, My mom and I probably argued everyday. We did not get along anymore. I was so stupid and selfish. We went right back to doing things that we did before, only we were older so it was ten times worse now. We got into so much more shit and hardcore drugs. I was hanging around with the wrong crowd again. But see I'm a hypocrite because I didn't want to do those things but I had fun doing them.

So, I guess I was confused. I hated what I was doing to my parents but at the time I didn't care anymore. You're not the same person when you're on drugs. Franky was my cousin/friend and I loved him, but he was so bad for me. I liked bumming around with him, but I wanted it to stop. Now you're probably thinking why didn't I just stop hanging out with him? Well, it's a lot more complicated than you think. I'll tell you about a specific time and then you'll really get to see the dark side of my cousin. There were many times I told him I wanted out of the "dope game" and that I didn't want to do things like this anymore. And you know what he did? He threatened me. He knew me for a long time and the kid wasn't dumb I'll give him that, and he knew all my weaknesses. He didn't threaten to tell my parents or anything because he knew that I really didn't care about that. He didn't try to hurt me because he knew that would just come back to him. Franky had other plans and they were much worse than anyone knows. He told me that he was going to give drugs to Carl! I've always had a soft spot for my little brother, and Franky knew that. I always told him to stay away from Carl because I didn't want him getting into his head like how he did to me. That was always our little deal. I would do whatever he told me to as long as he left Carl alone.

So, that's why I did all that stuff. Not because I wanted to, but because I HAD to! It was my job to keep him safe, and I would do anything for him.

So, one day something good happened for me. Franky left! Yeah, he just left! Nobody knew where he went or why, and I can't even say they cared.

But I can say that things were finally getting better for me. I made friends! A lot of friends. Good ones too. The only thing was that they were in the same grade as me, but I was the oldest. And the most experienced. So in a way, I felt like I was the Franky to them. The thought horrified me in a sense, but it was also very cool. And I was doing a lot better with my schoolwork.

I started dating, but I had to sneak around because my parents said I couldn't date until I was eighteen. _I can't imagine why._ A lot of the guys I dated though, broke up with me because they just wanted one thing from me(and you know what I'm referring to) and I don't do that. I wasn't that type of person. I only _seriously_ dated three guys I think, and we only made out. Well, anyway I was dating this boy named Colt, and I really liked him but he had a major problem! He abused prescription drugs. He needed some serious help but sadly, he didn't get it in time. He overdosed. His death opened up my eyes more than anything else that has happened to me. It was only because I was so freaked out by his death. I mean…he was just a kid! It was truly frightening for me. Not something I will ever forget, and I don't really want to talk much about it. Can you just respect that, please? I'm sorry, I just can't.

So, after that, things kind of went back to the way they were. I dated guys and hung around with my friends. By the time I was a Sophomore, I had become like really popular in school, and everyone thought I was super funny. I even had two different jobs.

My first job, I worked at a studio and fixed the machines there. I've always been really good with technology. I'm kind of a techno wiz, if you will. I had so much fun working there! I met a lot of cool people, some famous! I even got to record some stuff. I'm a really good singer by the way and I can play pretty much any instrument you put in my hands. Not trying to brag or anything. Sorry, not sorry. I snuck into a few after parties too and let me tell you, that was fucking fun! Sadly, the company moved to another city. I begged my parents to move there, but it was out of the question.

My second job, I worked at a pool as a lifeguard. Not as fun as my other job, but it was definitely entertaining. I was a really good lifeguard too! I actually won an award for saving a man who busted his face open on the concrete. The poor guy died two days later. I hate thinking about that so moving on, I eventually had to quit my job as a lifeguard though, because I had some other problems to deal with. Menstrual problems. _I guess things were going too well me._ I kept getting really bad cramps whenever I would get my period, and they were also pretty heavy. Sorry, I know it's kinda gross, but this is something that has effected me badly, and has some importance later in my story. Well anyway, my mom ended up taking me to the doctors, and turns out, I have Endometriosis. The doctor said it's quite common in young people, and of course I had to be one of them. So once again, I had to make the choice whether to get surgery or take medication. As much as I didn't want to, I picked the surgery because of the experience I had last time with meds. I was super nervous about it. We scheduled the surgery, but it never happened. You'll find out why in a bit.

I only have a few more things to tell you, so, I'll tell you about the worst day of my life. I had just got out of school and my mom and I went to pick up my brother. I was texting my boyfriend, Brandon who we call Meatball, when I heard the sirens. My dad's partner, Shane drove up in his police car and I knew right away something bad had happened to my dad. My stomach ached. He told us that my dad had been shot. _No!_ The ground crumbled at my feet and suddenly I couldn't breathe. They were talking for a bit afterward, but I wasn't listening. I was gone. I watched as my mom walked over to Carl and told him what happened. He hugged her and cried. I felt Shane put his arm around me and rub my back, and that's when I lost it. He just held me while I cried. He's one of the few people who's ever seen me cry.

We went to visit my dad in the hospital after that. He was in a coma and there was no guarantee that he would live. _No! I wouldn't let that happen!_ I made a promise to myself that I would get him to wake up. After all, he got me out of my coma. _I owed it to him!_ Everyday, I would go and talk to him, but there was never any improvement. I was losing hope, but I didn't give up!

One day while I was talking to him, I could have sworn he moved his hand, but I couldn't be sure. Besides, I told the nurse and she said that it could just be nerves, and to not get my hopes up. I felt like I had failed and I was devastated.

That night while eating dinner, Shane came over and told us we had to go. Go? Go where? He told us to pack stuff only that we really needed and quickly, and he said something about people eating people. There has been a few stories on the news about a serious disease that's rapidly spreading, and no one knows what it is. I was terrified! I had no idea what was going on, and Shane looked frantic. So, we packed and left. But something was missing, I needed my daddy. Shane must have been able to tell how fearful I looked because he hugged me close and told me that everything would be okay, and for some reason I believed him.

Well, I wish I could tell you more, but this is a whole other story. Sorry!

 **I'm thinking about turning this into an actual story, following the events of The Walking Dead! Please let me know what y'all think! :D**


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